The Tyrant
by she-who-waits-behind-the-wall
Summary: I already published this once before but I took it down and completely rewrote it. Takes place during The Castle of Mirrors. Borlath is returned to life rather than the queen and is placed in the academy as a student. Contains multiple OCs. No pairings yet. Rated T to be safe. Told in the POV of the Bloor children.
1. Chapter 1

**The Tyrant**

**Chapter One: An Evil Heart**

**Manfred Bloor**

It was finally autumn and I could head home for the first time since the beginning of summer. I looked out the window of the train I had become a passenger to and watched the golden yellows, rustic oranges and dull reds of the trees as we sped past them. There was a girl in the seat across from me. Her head was propped up against the window, she had headphones on and she appeared to be asleep. The other seats around us were empty and everyone was quiet. Every now and then, I could hear the murmur of her music and I would peek up at her from my book. She was pretty and that made me happy she was asleep because I'm really bad at conversation with cute strangers. She had wild, wavy black hair that seemed to have a life of its own and freckles dusted her pale face. She looked familiar. I was almost positive she was a student at the academy.

The train came to a stop at our city's train station. I silently stood, grabbed my belongings, evacuated the train car and stepped onto the station platform. Of course my father and grandfather couldn't be bothered to pick me up, although I had been absent for three months. Instead stood their chauffeur Weedon. He took a couple of my bags for me and loaded them into the sleek black car that he could constantly be seen driving. I sat in the passenger seat and we were quiet the whole ride. No questions from him, wondering how my summer went or how my classes went. No asking how The States were or what I did when I wasn't in my classes. He didn't care. He was only there to clean up after us and get paid handsomely for it. And he was given a nice place to stay since he and his wife never had children anyway.

Seeing the city made me feel melancholy. I had liked New York much more. The air wasn't weighed down with magic or evil, the citizens actually lived their lives. The sky actually looked blue, the scenery was incredible. People actually smiled and joked around on the streets in the smaller cities, and the bigger cities didn't faze me because I had already had a taste of ignorance living here.

We approached the academy and I could already smell dinner before Weedon ever opened the door. Cook had outdone herself. Father had more than likely commanded her to slave over a stove all day preparing what smelled like a roast, potatoes of some sort and a mixture of vegetables. The dinner bell was rung after I had finished unpacking by bags in my room in the west wing. I hadn't taken much to school. Toiletries and furniture had been supplied in our dorm rooms. All I had needed to take was clothing and other personal items I had wanted.

I ventured to the family dining room where my father had already been sitting at the edge of the table. I looked nothing like my father. He was a tall, meaty man with broad shoulders and a big, thick face. His beady gray eyes were almost hidden by folds of flesh in his forehead. Under his nose was a pencil straight, iron gray mustache. His matching iron gray hair was immaculate and in a longer buzz cut. The only thing the two of us shared was height.

My great grandfather sat at his left side, his wheel chair was pushed over to the table. He blamed his handicap on Lyell Bone, who had shoved him to the ground when he was in his mid-nineties, but honestly, if that little episode hadn't happened, he probably would have been confined to the wheelchair soon anyways. He was over 100 and he resembled a skeleton very much so. His eyes were sunken back into his head, his nose was almost gone, and you could see every bone, as if his skin would soon fall off. His teeth were almost all gone, and the ones that weren't were rotted and black. The few strands of waxy white hair he did have left hung down from the skull caps he always wore. Even I was surprised he wasn't dead.

Both my father and great grandfather were angry, bitter people. My mother had been the only one to ever show me kindness as a child, and of course I ruined that when she tried to run away. I slammed her fingers in the door because my father had me convinced that if we didn't have her or her money, we would have to live on the street and because I was a spoiled little child I couldn't even fathom having less than the best. You're probably wondering how slamming her fingers in the door did anything. Well, she was a violinist (I could never stand the sound) and when she fainted from the crushing pain, my great grandfather dipped her hand in a potion that never allowed them to heal. She finally did escape us last January. I missed her so, even though I had not always treated her as great. She was beautiful. Tall and thin. Dark and mysterious.

Without her, Dinner was lonely. Great grandfather had taken her seat at the table, and I had the disgusting privilege to watch him try to eat, for I had to sit across from him. We enjoyed dinner in silence. Every now and then, someone would ask me a question which I would answer as quickly as possible, and then we would all get silent again.

I found myself immediately wanting to leave after dinner. I had seen how cheery the states were, and now being cramped in this mansion was the worst thing ever. I became hyper-aware of every cobweb and every evil grimace on the paintings that lined the walls. I almost didn't want to inherit all of this anymore. I stood up to leave, but I was stopped by great grandfather. "Where are you off to, boy? Aren't you curious of my summer work?"

Honestly, before I left I would have been deeply interested but the idea of being in his attic laboratory made me want to jump out the highest tower window. But of course, I nodded and sat down to listen to him talk about his plan to resurrect one of our ancestor's war horses. Just when I thought the speech would end, the dining room door was thrust open. Asa Pike, a friend of mine that should have graduated with me (but didn't), stood in the doorway panting heavily. His clothes were ripped, wrinkled, and very dirty. He had dirt on his hands and under his nails and he looked like a cross between a human and a beast. Gray ears poked up through his red hair, he had a tail, his nails were long, his hands were bigger, his teeth big and sharp. By the time he made it to where I was sitting, he was just a normal, dirty human boy with glowing yellow eyes. He placed an ancient, dirty box in my hands and told me to open. What was in the box made me gag and shut it. "Is that a human heart?!" I tossed the box onto the table, wanting it as far away from me as possible.

"I found it in the ruin. In a grave marked with a "b". B for Borlath." He stammered, avoiding eye contact. Asa, the werewolf, was embarrassed of his dog like habit. Borlath was eldest child of the Red King, the ancestor of the Bloor family.

I felt my bouts of wickedness creeping back and now I felt truly at home in the academy. I suddenly began to wonder if I could resurrect Borlath, or if my grandfather could. What if we could use the heart and processions of Borlath that had been passed down through my family and put them in the body of the warhorse my grandfather was working on? That's when I began to work late nights with my great grandfather, studying potions and science and magic by candlelight. I didn't sleep at all, completely engrossed in my work. I kept myself working at all times for that whole week before the students were supposed to come back. Then one day, we needed more vervain. The Yewbeam sisters had run out and we needed something to soak the horse bones and heart in to make them even stronger. So I went out in search of it. I didn't even know where to begin looking, so I decided to maybe take a look at Ingledew's book store to see if they still had that book on it.

When I stepped into Cathedral Square, the bookstore was in my sights, but my gaze veered a little towards the left to the windowless store that I had never even noticed was attached to it. It didn't have a name, just a protruding sign with a red blazing sun on it. I passed my destination and placed my hand on the thick, mahogany door of the nameless store and grabbed the golden knob with my other hand. I pushed the door open and stepped into what might be the strangest store I had ever seen. Although there were no windows, it was bright as could be inside, for the roof had been made of a dome like glass. The right wall was stacked with bookshelves of books with information everything from the Red King to every other bit of witchcraft, wizardry and magic. There were plants and charms and strange glass bottles, and a very big counter with many different types of jewelry, which were probably bewitched in some way. This was an alchemy shop; a store that I hadn't even known existed.

A man stood behind the counter. He wore a white dress shirt and a red tie. He was very tall; maybe about six foot four and he had pale skin. Although he was thin, he had broad shoulders and he had wavy medium length blonde hair. His eyes were a very particular blue-gray color. Stubble surrounded his thin lips and he smiled to show off pearly white teeth. He wore a gold nametag that read "Magnus" and I felt as if I should know him.

"Are you lost, Mr. Bloor?" He asked calmly. He had a heavy Swedish accent. "I believe you're after Venetia Yewbeam for your needs, not me."

I was surprised and very curious that this man knew who I was. "How do you know my name?" I demanded. Then I spotted the vervain on the shelves. "And I've come for that vervain."

"Out of Vervain. That's my parent plant. It's out of season, but I bet Venetia could have told you that." He drummed his fingers off the counter. "My daughter is a student at your academy and I don't think I want your kind in my shop."

"You can't discriminate who you sell to." I glared at him. I was slightly curious as to who his daughter was.

"Actually, I can." He pointed to a sign behind him that I had overlooked. It read _Members Only._ "You fill out an application that the head manager approves or denies and I happen to be the head manager." He set the application down in front of him.

"I'll find it elsewhere." I turned and walked towards the door. There was still the vervain in the Gunn household that I could get my hands on. I stormed out the door and passed the fenced off garden of the building with the intent of heading towards the Gunn household.

Stealing the vervain wouldn't be hard. Mrs. Gunn kept it right on the windowsill and it was a nice day, so of course the window would be open. The Gunn House was never quiet, so I couldn't be heard if I was careful enough. I usually had Asa do this kind of work for me, but I figured he'd mess it up somehow in the broad daylight. I on the other hand could be sneakier. I ran up the side of the house and crouched under the window sill. I peeked up quickly to see if anyone was there. Mrs. Gunn had her back turned as she tried to desperately sort out the music sheets that had been abandoned on her kitchen table and I grabbed the plant and sidled back down the side of the house. It was almost too easy. Maybe I'd start doing my own dirty work instead of having Asa mess it up all the time.

I walked back to the academy and by the time I made it back, I was tired. I took the vervain back up to the attic and went to bed. The bones would soak over the night and be ready for construction in the morning.

That night I dreamed of something going terribly wrong in the experiment. The King's Queen was named Bernice. And in my dream, the heart that Asa had actually found was her heart, and instead of bringing Hamuran the warhorse back to life, we had brought a majestic white mare that had gained favor of the queen back to life instead. My dream had been interrupted by an explosion that had come from the attic. I found myself jumping out of bed and running up the stairs only to find my father, grandfather and the four Yewbeam sisters all stood around the table. I pushed them aside only to find all the horse bones still there, but the heart and all of Borlath's belongings gone.

"What happened?" I asked, angry that they had resumed without me.

"There was an explosion and he disappeared…" Venetia looked around, bewildered. "Those were all priceless belongings…"

"Maybe if someone would have come and woke me up, this wouldn't have happened." I grumbled.

"I bet it was your vervain. You probably got it from an inadequate source." Eustacia accused.

"Really, Eustacia? I stole it back from Bone. And it was grown by your sister." I walked over and touched the horse bones. Why had they been unaffected by the explosion? They only had a thin film of ash on them.

Somewhere across the city, a fire engine raced to its destination.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Children and the Tyrant**

**Chapter Two: Found**

**Manfred Bloor**

Somewhere in the city a tyrant was afraid and wreaking havoc on anything that wasn't flame retardant. I didn't know where to look. I didn't know how to go about finding him. Was I supposed to follow the chain of fires in the city, or would that make me look like the arsonist? I was afraid of getting caught performing forbidden magic and of the whole city being consumed before its time. I wasn't sure how to react, so I went for a drive. I remembered what happened with Skarpo when he was pulled into our time through the painting his being was confined in. He didn't understand cars or electricity or… indoor plumbing. He made it rain frogs and elephants appeared in courtyards. Borlath could make it rain fire and create more problems. He could actually kill someone, or even the whole town.

I got in my car and began to drive downtown to see if anyone looked out of the ordinary, but everyone looked fine. No one was in wonder of the city lights or wondering what a car was. I drove through Cathedral Square and once I turned onto Piminy Street, a burning store sign fell on my car, denting the hood. I immediately slammed onto my brakes and came to a stop. I jumped out of the driver's seat to shove the sign off the car before it could cause an explosion of some sort and inspected the damage. Other than the dent in the hood and a smashed headlight, the car was fine. It wouldn't cost much to repair. A chill traveled down my spine. I knew what had caused the sign to fall, and I was standing right in his trap. He was probably looking at me, ready to kill me.

"Hello?" I stupidly called into the blackness. I didn't know what else to do. A streetlight flickered in the distance and I saw a man standing beneath it looking completely awesome and noble. He was tall and dark. Against my better judgment, I found myself moving closer like a moth drawn to light. More of his features came into focus. His hair was long and black, falling straight to his shoulders, but it was matted and I could smell his poor hygiene from here. They didn't have showers in the Middle Ages, except for if you were extremely wealthy. Borlath had been wealthy but was also a war machine often gone from his castle for weeks at a time. His beard was shaven closely to his face, which came as a shock, and his eyes were frightening to say the least. They were an interesting mix of copper, orange, and red. It was like staring into a fire.

He stared at me, question ready. When he spoke, I could only catch the gist of what he was saying. Middle English wasn't impossible to understand. I had taken a class on Chaucer at the university because I had of course been curious, and knowing the language that the Red King and his children spoke would probably come in handy at some point. I had been correct. He was questioning me on who I was, and more importantly, who he was. He couldn't seem to remember a thing other than his name and his language and other basic human functions. I stared at him and pointed at my car. "I can help you." I said as steadily as possible. I believe he slightly understood what I was saying. "Go sit there."

He gingerly approached my car, not sure what it was, but he seemed to trust me, a complete stranger, enough to take him somewhere for help. I climbed into the car next to him and pulled away from Piminy Street, ready to head home and show my grandfather the success in his magic. Borlath jabbered along in his less evolved language, asking questions on what was what, and why I spoke so queerly. From what I gathered, he knew his name was Borlath, and he knew that this was the city he had hailed from, although it looked different, and he knew he possessed the power of fire. He knew not much else. He had no memories of being a tyrant, no memory of his siblings, and no memory of his father. He pressed himself up against my window and looked at all the big city lights and the cars that whizzed by. I turned towards the academy and that seemed to jog a memory for him. He caught a glimpse of the ruined castle next to my home and let out a pained groan, jabbing his finger the window. He remembered the castle.

Together, we headed inside the academy and I prayed that nothing would burn down and that great-grandfather would be pleased. I found him sitting with the Yewbeam sister quartet around the fireplace in the family room, discussing evil plans while my father sat off to the side, nose in a book. He honestly could care less about magic. If he didn't possess it, then he didn't feel the need to have to sit through great-grandfather's discussions. Borlath stepped out from behind me and began to make his way towards the fire. It was warm and inviting and barbaric enough to understand, and as a fire monger, he enjoyed it. The room felt silent as we all watched him touch the burning hot coals with his fingers. He was resistant to the harsh burn of the flame.

"Is this-" Venetia cut off when Borlath looked at her, smiling a crooked grin. His teeth were actually quite well managed, despite the time. He had a wonderful smile, but could stand to use whitening strips and real dentistry work. "I feel like we have our work cut out for us, trying to fix this man so he is ready for the real world."

"He doesn't have his memory. All he knows is that his name is Borlath and he really likes fire." I sat down on the carpet next to Borlath, and caught myself reaching through to touch the burning coals as well. My father went to command me to stop, but my hand was already plunged into the flame and I extracted a hot coal. It didn't burn, and the family gasped with awe. This made Borlath clap his hands together and go on in his unintelligible gibberish. "He also remembers the castle. He looked quite sad to see it in ruins."

"He can be taught to cope in the real world." Grizelda, the oldest of her sisters, snapped. "We have all sorts of magic."

"What if bringing a tyrant into the world isn't much a good idea? He can't remember a thing." My father murmured just low enough that nobody but me could hear.

"Yes, yes." Eustacia said bitterly. "Magic and cosmetics. Manny, dear. Why don't you run off to bed? You've done enough for the day, you can go."

I went to object. I do not tolerate being treated like a child, or being dismissed from the room by a woman that wasn't my mother. But I found that I was too tired to handle any of this confusion any longer, so I went to my room, stripped out of my day clothes and fell into a deep slumber. I dreamt of fire.

* * *

I woke the next morning to the smell of Cook's Breakfast Casserole. I never knew what was inside it, and I never dared to ask. I quickly washed myself up in the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen dressed in a plain black shirt, a pair of jeans, and brown boots. Sitting in the usually empty seat next to mine was a man (actually, a teenager really). His black hair was cut to a more medium length and he kept running his long, skinny fingers through it. His face was clean shaven, his teeth almost perfect, skin tan and eyes bright. "Good morning, cousin." He said cheerfully.

My brother and sister, who had just returned from their summer trip to France to visit my mother's sister and her husband, were staring at me hoping I could explain who this strange man was. Salem, like me, he was tall and pale with black hair. He kept his shorter and in his face. It drove our father nuts. He was a year younger than me, but larger. He worked out and had a severe vanity problem. His eyes were a dark blue much like a sapphire gem, his nose was slightly hooked and his lips thin. His endowment was telepathy. He could communicate with me inside my mind, and at this point, he was practically yelling inside my head. I winced and took a seat next to Borlath, who seemed to be just like any other ordinary man of this century.

My little sister Veronica was four years younger than I. She looked exactly like our mother. She was short and painfully thin. She seemed fragile like a baby bird. Sometimes I wondered how all of her organs fit in her body. People thought that she starved herself until they saw the way she eats. It was disgusting. She had this tiny heart shaped face and large steel gray eyes that remained protected behind black framed Michael Kors glasses (Ronnie liked the finer things in life and cared about brands more than any of us). She had her long dark brown hair in a messy ponytail and her fringed bangs swooped across her forehead, just barely touching the tops of her frames. The poor thing was still stuck with braces. She was the only one of the Bloor siblings without an endowment. But she made up for her lack of magical talent by being a genius and a fantastic artist.

But now, she was glaring at me and Salem was inside my head, both unable to tear their eyes away from Borlath.

**Manfred, I'm not stupid. I know who he is. How did he get here?**

I glared at my brother, who was just as persistent as any other Bloor. I didn't want to tell him anything because he didn't have an evil bone in his body. _**Salem. Don't worry about it**._ I quickly responded to him, but all was given away when he caught me thinking of the past events. The girl on the train, the experiment, what happened to my car.

**You're going to kill everyone, you idiot.** Salem snapped, looking at Borlath again, who seemed innocent enough. He was happily shoveling food in his mouth. **He doesn't look like a tyrant though.**

_**He doesn't have memory of anything**._I insisted, staring down at my breakfast.

"Boys. Enough." Our father bellowed, making both of us look up. As long as Salem has had this endowment, we had used it for communication. Although it wasn't obvious he was using his endowment anymore, father always knew when it was happening.

The two of us broke off our conversation and Borlath looked up at us curiously. "Were you just discussing me in your head?" He narrowed his eyes at Salem, who winced; afraid he was going to spontaneously burst into flames.

"Don't worry about it." Father stood to his feet and looked at us. "I was debating on enrolling Borlath into our academy, as a Bloor of course, your cousin to be exact."

"That's a stupid idea." Veronica stabbed her fork into her food. "Are you trying to get caught?" She was rewarded a dirty look.

"If you're going to be evil, don't be blatantly stupid about it." Salem added.

"Silence, child!" Great Grandfather screeched when Weedon wheeled him into the room. "Home for a morning and you children are already causing problems for everyone."

"They're both right." I murmured. "That's the easiest way for Charlie Bone and his friends to find out who he is. If we don't have to enroll him in the school system, why should we? He has the whole west wing and ruin to explore during school hours, and one of the Yewbeams can always tutor him privately. And it'll give him a chance to get his memories back that way he can do what is expected of him."

"I don't want to stay in a dreary castle hall all day." Borlath whined. "I want to go out and explore." Before us sat a great, tyrannical leader who was supposed to help us keep control of the city, whining like a teenager. All of us decided that talking would only make us even angrier with each other, so we all bent over our food, pretending that no one was there and continued breakfast in a stony silence.

We went about our day doing whatever it was that we had to accomplish before the academy students came back and met up at the end of the night in the sitting room. Father flicked through a few files and looked at Salem and I. "Salem, this year you are the head boy. I need to actually act with responsibility and follow in the footsteps of your brother. And Manfred, you are still in charge of the endowed under the title of Teaching Assistant. You supervise their homework, monitor their progress, supervise during exams and help with whatever emotional problems they are facing."

"But…" I looked at him. "I don't care."

Salem and Veronica both giggled and father slammed his fist on the coffee table. "I don't give a damn. You have to start somewhere if you're going to take over the academy in a few years. You sure as hell know Salem isn't going to do it and with the stress you all put me through I'll be six feet under before Veronica becomes of age." He flipped through his files again. "We have had a few more new endowed students enrolled since you have been gone. Idith and Inez Branko are telepathic twins. They're in the music department and are related to Zelda. You got a letter from her, by the way. Weedon sat it on your desk. I believe she's at a university seven hours away now." I blushed and Salem smirked at me. A quick glare from our father wiped our faces clean. "A boy showed up on our doorstep by the name of Joshua Tilpin. His parents are unknown and his tuition is paid through a private bank. His endowment is magnetism. Everything and I mean _everything_ sticks to this child. He is in the art department."

"I actually cannot fathom this in the least." Veronica covered her face dramatically. "None of this is scientifically possible."

"Cut the shit, Ronnie. You're in a magical family. Science doesn't mean anything." Salem picked her arm up and dropped it back on her face.

"Watch your mouth." Father snapped. "The third child is Ava Pike, Asa's younger sister. She's fifteen. Her parents have been working with her to make sure she wasn't a danger to the academy before she was enrolled. She has been homeschooled and unlike her brother, she is very cunning and needs to be watched. She is a shape-shifter and as you children know, they are potentially the most dangerous people to come across. She is in the art department, and Ronnie, she is in your classes. You are to keep an eye on her while Manfred cannot." He flipped to another page. "There is another that I want you to keep an eye on, Salem. She is not endowed as of now, but your grandfather suspects that she is. She has been a student here for a year now. Her father owns an alchemy shop in the city."

"Alchemy shop?" I interrupted. "I was just in there a few days ago. How did we not know about this sooner? If her father's endowed, she is definitely a child of interest."

"We didn't know about it until as of late. Eustacia has been having her visions. The child's name is Nova Eriksson. She and her father are from Sweden and they just moved to this city last year. They have been residents of the country for about ten years. Her mother was from this city. Joyce Abbey."

"Like the author?" Veronica picked her head up from the book she was reading. Ironically, it was a Joyce Abbey book. She was Veronica's favorite author.

"Yes." Father continued. "Nova is in the music department and is a pianist. She will be a student of Mr. Ebony's while he's here, uh, avenging the death of his daughter. We're not sure what her endowment will be or who her ancestors are, but Eustacia seems to believe that whatever it is, she poses a threat and is dangerous as well as powerful. And because of this girl, Eustacia believes it will be beneficial to us to have her and Borlath interact. So I will be enrolling Borlath in the school in the music department as well, but he and Nova will have limited interaction."

"I still think it's stupid to enroll him." Salem murmured as he browsed his phone. "But whatever, I'll keep an eye on this Nova. Hey- She's really cute." He held out his phone to me and I immediately recognized her as the girl who sat across from me on the train. I knew there was something about her. Now that my father had mentioned it, I was almost positive she was endowed.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Tyrant**

**Chapter Three**

**Salem Bloor**

I dreaded the first day of school, but I put on a happy face. Honestly, I didn't want the responsibility my father was thrusting onto my shoulders. I didn't want to babysit Nova Eriksson or the man responsible for singlehandedly almost burning this whole city to the ground a thousand years ago. I didn't want to be the head boy either. It was too much stress for me, and I didn't handle stress well at all.

I decided to look for Nova first. I scouted the blue coatroom, trying to look over the heads of students as I stood in front of my locker. I zoned out trying to remember how she wore her hair. I was brought back to earth after someone bumped into me and murmured "Sorry, but could you move over? My locker is right below yours."

It was a Swedish accent. I looked down only to see large icy blue eyes staring at me. Nova was even more attractive in person. I had seen her everywhere but had never bothered to learn her name. She had really pretty pale skin. She almost looked like porcelain. And like an old, beautiful porcelain doll, she had cracks. She had a scar under her right eye, another close to her mouth. She had flaws, but her striking features distracted from them. Everything about her was so intense. The makeup around her eyes was dark and her eyelashes were curly and long. She had bright red lipstick on that almost distracted me from that scar by her mouth. She was the kind of girl you always noticed but feared. In that moment, I, Salem Bloor, was at a loss for words. I was terrified of this girl who stood impatiently, waiting for me to move out of the way of her locker. I wondered if she was purposely placed below me.

"Are you going to stare or are you going to move?" She asked. She looked more annoyed by the second so I wordlessly stepped aside. "Thank you." She knelt down and began to place piano sheet music inside her locker. When she finished she stood up and stared into my eyes. "I guess I should get to know you if you're going to have the locker above mine. I'm Nova Eriksson. I'm a fifth year piano and violin student."

"Uh... Salem Bloor. I'm a sixth year and a guitar student."

**Shit. Salem Bloor? How didn't I notice before? Argh, no. This can't be happening.** Her thoughts were panicked but she remained composed. She smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry for being so rude. I have to go now." **They placed him there on purpose. What the hell is his endowment? I should have done more research on these children.** Her hurried thoughts followed her out of the room and I leaned against the locker not sure of what to do. She was obviously endowed, or she was hiding something important.

"So? What's on your mind, cousin?" Someone breathed into my ear. I almost jumped out of my skin to find Borlath standing even taller than I, right behind me wrapped in a cape like a normal student. "Actually, I really don't care. What's on that girl's mind? She was… beautiful."

I thought of what dad had said the night before. Something about it being beneficial to their cause to have Borlath and Nova interact. "That's Nova, and you need to stay away from her for right now. Dad and Miss Yewbeam said so." I sounded like a snotty little kid.

"But cousin, it's like love at first sight. I feel so drawn to her." He brought up his hands and clenched his fists. I could hear the sound of fire crackling. I immediately pulled his wrists down. "Ah. Sorry. I got a bit overwhelmed. I'm a terribly passionate man."

"Just listen to me for now, okay? I promise you'll get to meet her and spend time with her soon, but not now." The bell sounded for assembly, which occurred every Monday morning and we walked together to the great hall. I don't know why I was promising Borlath anything, most likely just to appease him and give him less reason to disobey. He was a grown man and a prince at that, therefore he was more likely to try and control us. He would remember his place soon enough and would eventually learn of the fear that he could strike into all of our hearts, including that of the most evil in this mansion.

After assembly I threw myself into school work and did not see Nova or Borlath the rest of the morning. At lunch, Borlath came and sat with me at my table and stared forlornly in Nova's direction. "Dude, stop it." I smacked his arm then immediately withdrew my hand, forgetting he could probably burn my skin off if he really wanted to. "You look creepy and you can't do things that these days."

"But I want to meet her. She looks so interesting."

**They're staring at me. Why the hell are they staring at me?** Her thoughts were reaching me. **So creepy.**

"She knows you're staring. Stop." I pleaded. He didn't listen. He stood up and began to walk towards her. I watched the pink blush creep onto her face. She dropped her eyes down to her food and began to nervously pick at it with her fork. She was internally begging him to turn around and leave her alone. **Go away. Go away. Go away! Please keep walking. NO DON'T SIT DOWN.** But he sat down across from her, making her look up.

"I am Borlath Bloor, pleased to make your acquaintance. Don't mind my name. It's not as vicious as its history, my dear." He was smooth. I had to give him that. He was charming and disarming enough for Nova to noticeably let down her guard.

"Oh… I'm not much of a fan of fire anyway." She put her fork down, pushed her plate aside and rested her folded arms on the table. "So, are you the fourth Bloor sibling or something?"

I watched Borlath slightly cringe but he still carried on. "I'm a cousin. I'm from quite a bit away but my mother died a long time ago and my father, a wanderer, just kind of left me here. Uncle Harold took me in, is letting me finish my schooling and is even paying for my college in the fall."

He was smooth and a very good liar. Nova believed every bit of bull he spewed out. I watched her hardened and intimidating expression fade. "My mother died too. Car accident. And my father is an alchemist, which causes him to travel a lot. He leaves during the week while I'm at school to collect supplies." They were hitting it off and I was terrified that Manfred would walk down the hall and see that I couldn't keep them separated.

"I know a part of your history before I even know your name. Tell me it's as beautiful as you are."

God fucking damn was he smooth! I was getting angry. I spent most of my secondary education life being the charming and charismatic Bloor, and here he was so easily chipping away the barrier Miss Ice Queen built up against me. She was actually buying all of this, eating out of his hand. "I'm so sorry, I thought I told you. I guess you just threw me off guard. My name is Nova Eriksson."

"Nova is such a beautiful name. You truly are the brightest star in a sky of dull astral bodies."

Oh my god. That was just stupid. I couldn't even handle it. It was so corny. I had a rule against using a girl's name in pickup lines because it is honestly the most cliché and cringe-worthy thing a man could do. I wasn't sure what was worse, him saying it or her believing it.

"Salem! What the hell are you doing?" Manfred's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I was getting annoyed at the number of people who were sneaking up on me like this today. His cold, bony hand dug into my shoulder. "You're supposed to keep them separated unless directed otherwise."

"You wanna try telling Prince Tyrant no? Because I really like having my nice, smooth, unburned skin."

Manfred glared at me and focused his attention on Nova and Borlath. "Have you found anything else out about her?"

"As dirty as I feel going into an unsuspecting girl's head, yeah, I have found out a few things about her. She's afraid of being around a Bloor for too long and is hiding something. If you put those two things together, it's obviously pretty suspicious. Borlath disarmed her very well. He'll get her to slip up."

"I'm sure he will, but we don't want him to reveal himself. I'm putting an end to this little lunch date." He walked past me and over to their table. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt but Borlath is wanted in the headmaster's office. "

Nova, like all the other students, knew better than to challenge Manfred by looking him in the eye. "It's nice to see you, Manfred." She murmured timidly.

"That's Sir to you, Miss Eriksson. And please, spare the flattery." He scoffed.

"I'm sorry sir." She watched Borlath bow to her and exit the room without a word. He was pissed, but knew he had to obey until he could overpower us easily. His thoughts scared me. I tried not to enter them. "I may be out of line to ask, but I thought you graduated?"

"I did. Only that idiot Asa Pike was stupid enough to get held back." Ouch. What a way to talk about your best friend. I really liked Asa. There was something about him, like he wasn't wholly evil. He was just misguided and confused about his own endowment. He needed acceptance from someone. "I briefly went to the States for schooling in an education degree and I have returned as a teaching assistant and advisor for the Red King's Children."

"I wish I could go to the States. I've never been there, only other countries in Europe." She smiled dreamily at the thought. It was as if a conversation with Borlath had changed her completely.

"Nova…" He sat down across from her and leaned in close. "Because I'm an advisor to the endowed students, I'm here to tell you to stay away from Borlath at all costs until I tell you otherwise. His endowment is unstable and it's not safe for you, an unendowed child, to be interacting with him."

"Oh?" She bravely looked him in the eyes. "He didn't seem dangerous. He was so nice. Most people don't talk to me because I guess I'm kind of cold and mean at first glance."

"I care about your safety and don't want to see you get hurt. I'm really sorry, but could you please do me this one favor?"

Nice Manfred always disarmed people. He was always such a dick to everyone that when he actually said things like "please" and "I care about you", no one ever knew how to react. I was getting annoyed. Since when were my siblings more effective at conversation than me? I watched Manfred get up and leave Nova to her lunch. I was tempted to go sit with her and try to talk to her as well, but I felt as though I would be pushing my luck. She would definitely know we were on to her and take extra care not to slip up. I stared down at my food and sighed.

I hated this school, I hated this town, and sometimes I hated my family. It was difficult being the only Bloor with morals. Although they were so different from me and I disliked the things they did to people, they were still my family. I felt like they wouldn't be so bad if Ezekiel wasn't considered the patriarch of the Bloors and if Manfred and dad had actually been raised by grandpa.

Everyone thought that Grandpa Bart had died mountain climbing, but I was one of the few people in this world that knew he was alive and lived in the wilderness across the bridge. Sometimes I lied and said I was staying with friends when in reality I would go stay with him and help him chop wood or whatever else he needed. He remarried and had another family now. He told me I was like him, a black sheep. If only I didn't mindlessly follow my father's orders sometimes.


End file.
